


Lightning in the Rane

by ZeeRane



Series: Galactic Rane [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Drama, F/M, SWTOR Spoilers Sith Inquisitor Story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-07
Updated: 2016-03-08
Packaged: 2018-05-25 10:33:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6191635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZeeRane/pseuds/ZeeRane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Empire took everything Vaessa ever cared for and threw her into slavery. Now cast into the deadly games of the Sith, she seeks only to survive and take back what was hers, provided she doesn't give in to her new power. Follows Bioware's Sith Inquisitor class storyline closely. F!Inquisitor/Andronikos Revel. Rated T for violence, suggestive themes, may change as I progress.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Disclaimer:** All recognizable characters, dialogue, locations, etc are property of Bioware and Electronic Arts.

 **A/N:** This story will follow the rise of my Sith Inquisitor, Vaessa Rane, from a slave to a Darth. It'll follow the class storyline pretty closely, including a lot of dialogue, but not completely. Other class stories are likely to intertwine a bit, as Vaessa is only one character in my Legacy.

Also, this is my first time writing a fic! Any comments/critiques are greatly appreciated! :D

* * *

 

Vaessa wiped the blood from her face, her hand only lingering briefly on the raised skin that marked her branded cheek. She winced feeling the coarse skin under her fingers, the rising and falling of each bump so unnervingly familiar to her by now. Only the jarring _thump_ of the slave’s body hitting the ground drew her attention back to the scene before her. Laughter erupted from the monstrous Houk guard as he kicked the man to the ground. The old man was yelling something between screams of pain, though what he was saying she had no idea. Was he even speaking basic? Those weren’t words she recognized, though it hardly mattered, the intent behind them was pretty clear. His right hand clutched hopelessly at the stump where his left had so recently been. Without even realizing it, her body shook as she took in the sight.

The Houk’s booming laughter was cut short as he turned now to face her, his meaty arm raising his vibroblade up in her direction, blood still dripping off its cortosis-weave blade. She hadn’t even considered that in all the commotion, she had frozen in fear, standing stock still save for her shaking. If she was standing still, she wasn’t working, and if she wasn’t working…

“You there,” His voice bellowed from his throat, sending a shiver down her spine as she worked her gaze up his towering frame to meet his eyes, “Yea, you little girlie! Any reason you just standing there gawking? You got some sorta excuse to not be working right now?”

“N-no sir I,” the words sputtered from her lips.

“This is a private conversation we were having, your friend and I,” he gave her no time to eke out an excuse, “’Course, I’m sure you could join in if you _really_ want to.” He grunted in amusement, tipping his head towards his blade.

Vaessa considered her options. She hadn’t survived this long to die over a mistake like this. Yet the old man – Maerlon – had cared for her. He’d protected her when she first arrived here years earlier. How could she just leave him to suffer at the, admittedly terrifyingly large, hands of this brute? Her eyes darted around to examine the mine around her. The other workers had sharply lowered their heads, doing their best to ignore the commotion and return to the spice.

 _Right_ , she sighed, _so much for solidarity. Can’t say I blame them though._ Would it be too much to hope an energy spider would drop from the ceiling and stab the hulking Houk in the back? Figures the one time she actually wants one to pop out she’s out of luck.

A familiar voice broke through her thoughts, “Hey I’m talking to you girlie!” _Crap!_ What was she doing hoping for miracles? When has luck ever been on her side? She quickly attempted to stammer out an apology.

“S-sorry, I’m sorry sir, I was just, um,” but it was too late, he’d started towards her now, vibroblade raising higher with each step he took. His feet seemed to shake the ground as he walked, his hunched form stomping towards her as he seemed ready to take a swing at her head. Vaessa’s mind scrambled to formulate a plan, an action, _anything_ to get her out of this. She began to stumble backwards, her spindly legs desperately trying to pull her away from the danger even as her brain froze in terror. Her eyes darted to Maerlon, his cries having subsided now. Was he even still alive or had he just passed out from shock? Sparks exploded into the dark cave, illuminating the Houk’s face for a brief moment as his blade clashed with the rock wall next to her face. Her eyes met his as she was drawn away from worrying about her friend and back to her current predicament. The look in his eyes immediately filled her with dread as the image, only lasting an instant in the immediate flash of the sparks, seared its way into her brain forever.

 _He’s enjoying this_ , she realized. _How could someone possibly take pleasure from such sadistic cruelty?_

Almost instinctively, her reflexes kicked in and she ducked to the ground before scampering off to the side, her hands and feet scraping the dirt just to move. The Houk lumbered after her, laughing as he slashed down at her. This time his strike landed, the blade cutting across the right of her back. Nothing too deep or life-threatening, but enough to draw blood and a yelp as the piercing jolt of pain shot through her body. She fell forward onto her face, her branded cheek rubbing into the soil as she clenched her teeth and grimaced. Her whole body shook as she turned to face him.

She was going to die. She knew that, but it still stunned her. Her mind started thinking back to just a few years earlier. Not that she wanted to, but she couldn’t help it, the memories started flooding in. The tears welling up in her eyes stung as the mixed with the dirt, as her breathing grew rapid and shallow. _I’m sorry Kade._

The next few moments played out over what seemed to her like a lifetime. The vibroblade rose in the air, gripped tightly by the Houk’s nerf-sized hand. He was saying something but her ears had long stopped listening. The air seemed to crackle as Vaessa brought her hands up in front of her. She could make out the exact moment the sadistic glee in his eyes turned to alarming fear; the moment terror swept over him in a manner he’d never before experienced. It wasn’t when her expression change from one of fear to rage, nor was it when she began to shout. No, it was the moment the first arc of lightning snaked its way from her outstretched finger, through the musky cave air, and struck the barrel of his broad chest.


	2. Of Slaves and Sith

“ _Slaves?”_ he practically spit the word out. “You expect me to train a bunch of low-born filth?” He paced around the office – _his_ office – as he stared at her, perched upright in _his_ chair at _his_ desk. She raised one hand and brushed a lock of blonde hair from her eyes, the sweeping motion of her hand seemingly drawing on the smile that steadily grew on her face.

“My dear Harkun,” the words slid from her lips like silk. A chill ran down his spine as she spoke his name, her charming demeanor never failed to utterly unnerve him. “Surely you understand by now how these things work? I ask something of you, and you do it. I hardly see why it matters to you where these acolytes come from.”

He snarled as he raised a hand to his face and stroked the small stalk of a beard on his chin. “Of course My Lord, but surely you’d find it much more preferable to have a pureblood apprentice, someone with some real Sith heritage,” he said. He looked into the gentle gaze of her eyes, attempting to determine what she was thinking. Her expression remained unchanged though, her smile unwavering as she uncrossed her legs and leaned forward in his chair. If she was even slightly upset with him, she certainly didn’t show it. He began again, “My sources have spoken of a handful of very prospective acolytes that-“

“I am quite confident of whom I seek,” she said, her nostrils flaring just the slightest bit as she did so. “Now prepare the trials. I have business on Dromund Kaas to attend to, but be assured I will check in frequently on their progress.”

Without giving him time to respond, she simply stood and left, her brisk pace taking her quickly from his office and out of the academy. Harkun could only stand there stewing in anger, grinding his teeth. His mind raced, struggling to wrap itself around her request.

 _What was she thinking, asking for an apprentice from slaves?_ He raised a clenched fist to his mouth. _The Empire works by rewarding strength with power, it’s the essence of the Sith Code itself, and she wants me to throw away thousands of years of tradition on a whim!_

Suddenly, his rage got the best of him. With a quick flick of his wrist, he lashed out towards his desk, the chair behind it lifting off the ground and slamming into the wall to his right. It clanged off the durasteel with a _thud_ that sent echoes through the hall.

 _That witch will get her apprentice,_ he thought. He would not ignore his duty, _but I’ll be damned before I turn a slave into a Sith._

* * *

 _Sith._ The first thing she noticed after being prodded through the durasteel door of the shuttle was his deep red skin. It marked him clear as the brand on her cheek. Her mouth gaped slightly as she examined the deep black robes adorning his body. She’d seen such robes before. He was definitely a Sith. Maybe not a Lord, in fact, she doubted anyone of such stature would bother to ride a shuttle surrounded by slaves, but Sith nonetheless. She could feel fear creep up her spine as if a blanket was being wrapped around her. He sat alone, back to the window of the shuttle. His face seemed as if it were drawn into a permanent scowl, his beady yellow eyes glowing as they peered around the small ship. Vaessa hurriedly averted her own before he caught her staring.

 _We’re going to be executed_. The thought ensnared itself at the forefront of her mind, blocking out all other thoughts until her vision itself seemed to fog over. Why else would a Sith be traveling with this group?   _He’s the executioner._ _I killed a guard, of course they’re going to kill me. But it was self-defense!_ She could just about feel her heart pounding against her chest, practically trying to break out. If it wasn’t for the sudden feeling of a hand being gently placed onto her shoulder, it just might have.

“You’re the one who took down Oguk right? We all heard about that, you know,”

Vaessa regarded the stick of a girl the voice had come from. The girl’s auburn hair, cropped similarly to her own, came down over the sides of her face in a smooth curve that would probably look quite pretty were it not so finely layered with dirt. The rings under her eyes and weak, weary smile didn’t help much either, but Vaessa wasn’t exactly one to brag; the last several years hadn’t exactly done her any favors either. Most striking was the girl’s own brand, which covered most of the right half of her face. Whoever had done it hadn’t done a proper job, as it had scarred, leaving cracks and lines in the skin.

Vaessa tilted her head to the side. “Oguk?”

“The Houk with the real easygoing temperament.”

“Ah,” Vaessa exhaled, as the girl let out a small chuckle. From the corner of her eye, Vaessa could swear she saw the Sith turn his head towards them, if only for a moment.

The girl stopped quickly though and her face grew stern. “Seriously though, I owe you thanks. _We_ owe you thanks, my family that is. My father he…” her voice trailed off, but the sullen expression on her face told Vaessa all she needed to know.

She nodded in understanding. “I’m sorry, for what it’s worth.”

The girl looked up, a faint smile struggling to take shape. “Don’t be, as I said, I owe _you_. Anyway, you have a name? You know, so I can tell my mom who to thank, too.”

“Vaessa.”

“Pretty name,” the girl said. She gestured to herself, “Kory.”

“Well-met. So Kory, you have any idea where they’re taking us?”

* * *

It took almost all of his restraint not to retch right there. The shuttle ramp had scarcely finished lowering onto the landing pad before he’d caught his first glimpse of the vermin within. Their rags marked them before their stench ever reached his nostrils. With a huff, Harkun crossed his arms over his chest and took note of each slave as they made their way towards him. Perhaps it was the cloudy haze of red dirt that constantly whipped through the arid Korriban atmosphere, but it took several seconds before he caught sight of the only one to exit the shuttle that mattered to him.

_Althe’s boy, he’s even more perfect than I could have hoped._

The young man’s black robes draped over his thin frame, shaping him into a living shadow. His hood hung low over his face, but there was no mistaking the deep red of his skin. Harkun could feel the pull of a smile grip his face as he examined the acolyte. The man’s every step seemed driven by sheer purpose, his forceful gait pushing through the crowd of slaves around him.

Harkun noted one particularly pitiful wretch who’d apparently taken to sightseeing rather than walking. Her dark hair dropped in bangs over her face, though he could make out the familiar markings of a slave brand just under her left eye. He nearly burst out laughing as the Sith walked past her, his shoulder catching her own sharply. Even from a distance, Harkun could make out the wince of pain on her face as she stumbled forward. Perhaps more interesting, however, was flash of anger in her eyes that vanished as fast as it had appeared.

* * *

“Ah, the last one to arrive is _finally_ here.”

Vaessa half-sprinted the last several feet to the armored man that had addressed her. Not that he looked like much of a warrior, but he was still above her, she knew that much. Respectfully, she lowered her head before looking back at him. She only now noticed the peculiar red tattoo that covered his right eye and extended up over his brow. Her hand slowly raised up to her own brand.

His eyes narrowed as he crossed his arms over his chest, “I hope you don’t think you’re special.”

Dropping her hand back down, she shook her head. “No my Lord I-“

“It would be a shame if freedom went to your head, or if you somehow got the idea you didn’t need to pass your trials to become Sith.”

His eyes drilled into hers, and she hurriedly looked away. She instead looked over to catch Kory staring straight back at her. The assuring look in her eyes had a serene calming effect that Vaessa was almost unaware of until she caught herself starting smile, before stopping quickly. Instead she straightened back up turned her attention back to the Overseer, who seemed to have taken his focus off of her to address the lot of them.

“Lord Zash has tasked me with sorting through you refuse to find one worthy of being her apprentice,” he said, his face twisting at the last part. He let out an exasperated sigh as he continued, “And I intend to do just that.”

Vaessa’s ears twitched as she listened. _Zash?_ Kory had explained to her what their purpose was on Korriban, how getting discovered as force sensitive meant they’d be thrown into the academy to likely die, but nothing she’d said indicated they were being scouted by a Lord.

Her curiosity got the best of her. “Who is this Zash?”

No sooner had the words left her mouth than she immediately regretted them. _Idiot! It’s not your place to ask, only to be asked of!_ The familiar chant rang in her head. It nearly drowned him out as he sneered at her.

“That’s _Lord_ Zash to you, slave.” His clear blue eyes grew fierce as they narrowed, and red flushed into his brow and cheeks. Stepping closer, he stabbed a finger towards her and slashed his other hand down through the air. “She’s a Dark Lord of the Sith and more important than you’ll _ever_ be.”

None of the other acolytes said a word, but Vaessa could feel their eyes burning into the back of her head. _Great, just got here and I’ve already ticked off my new master._ She’d always known it was a possibility she’d end up on Korriban, she just thought she was careful enough not to. Now she was here barely one minute and she wasn’t even sure she’d last another.

The Overseer was moving on though. “Now, the rest of you gutter trash already know your trial. Get going while I bring our latecomer up to speed.”

Quickly, the group of former slaves shuffled out of the room, into whatever horrors awaited them in the valley below. Vaessa noted the Sith from the shuttle, leaning on the doorway with his arms crossed. _How long had he been standing there?_ She swore he’d walked off when they first arrived. Yet he was there, and he was staring straight at her. Her attention was shifted by another voice cutting in.

“Watch your back, friend.”

Vaessa looked around, perplexed. She shifted her gaze from the Sith to find Kory calmly smiling back at her.

“And don’t worry, it’ll be alright.” Kory’s eyes motioned towards the Overseer, “He can’t kill us all.”

Vaessa nodded. “I will, and you take care of yourself.”

Kory chuckled softly. “Believe me, I’ll be watching back, front, everywhere.” With that, she left, leaving Vaessa alone with the Overseer. He scowled as he watched Kory leave, turning back to Vaessa with cold eyes. She quickly looked back towards the doorframe where the Sith had been, but the room was empty now.

“Now, slave, if you’re finished socializing, your first trial.”


	3. River in a Storm

Warmth seemed to be draining out through her hands. At least, she could swear that’s how it felt. For a desert-like planet, Korriban was surprisingly chilly. It didn’t help that the training saber she’d received might as well have been shipped in from Hoth. The icy durasteel hilt stung her fingers to hold, but she didn’t appear to have many options right now.

There were five of them. No, wait, six. Vaessa spun her head around a few times to double-check, and keep an eye on their positions. None were attacking yet, but all held their own training blade at their side. Each wore a robe similar to that young Sith’s from the shuttle, which unnerved her enough, but what truly frightened her were their faces.

 _I think I’m going to be sick._ Skulls. The faces of all six acolytes had been carved into the shape of a skull. At first, she’d thought they were simply intricately drawn tattoos. Tattoos that covered the entire face, but tattoos nonetheless. Yet she’d seen tattoo’s before, even seen war paint. There was no mistaking a carving though. Not for a slave. Her hand quickly covered her mouth to stifle the horrified gasp that had risen up in her throat.

She quickly looked back up the steps to the old hermit, Spindrall. There he stood, hands clasped behind his back, and his weathered eyes surveying the scene. It was difficult to make out due to the ragged grey beard that obscured the lower half of his face, but Vaessa could swear she saw his lips curl upwards a bit. _Was he enjoying this?_

Vaessa stood still in the center of the six Sith acolytes. Each paced around in place, never taking their sunken eyes off of her. The whole of the tomb fell deathly silent, only the occasional stream of sand falling from the ceiling as the ancient crypt settled around them. Her hands trembled, though whether that was due to the cold or the fear she did not know. The rhythmic flurry of her quick, shallow breaths seemed to keep time to the rapid beating from her chest. From the corner of her eye, an acolyte appeared to be raising his arm.

Inhaling slowly, she closed her eyes. After a few seconds, she opened them again, turned, and raised her weapon.

* * *

Not since Zash herself had come through his encampment had Spindrall been so entertained by an acolyte. The way she struck against her enemies with such raw ferocity! Yet within her he did not sense anger and hatred like so many other Sith. Instead, there was a primal sort of quality to her rage. As if she fought not because she wanted to, nor because she enjoyed it, but because she needed to.

His own acolytes certainly were giving her reason to fight. They charged and circled around her, swinging at her legs and back, attempting to overpower through sheer numbers. She did her best to counter them all, but there’s only so much an untrained fighter can do in these odds. Even one as raw in power as she appeared to be.

“Keep up the assault, give her no room to counter!” One of his acolytes was shouting to the others.

Another had circled around her, raising his blade to strike at her back. “Give it up, slave! You’re pathetic if you think y-“

The audible _crack_ of his ribs echoed through the musty room as the hilt of her saber connected with his chest. She’d turned her head when he started talking, and forcefully jabbed backwards with her weapon. The man choked on air and collapsed to his knees, clutching his chest. She quickly turned her attention back to the five remaining acolytes.

Spindrall raised an eyebrow. The display was certainly entertaining, but she’d taken out a foolish opponent who’d left himself defenseless in order to banter. Not exactly the most impressive feat. Still, he found himself remembering Zash’s trial in the tomb.

It’d been years since then, but he still recalled the charming young woman who’d found her way to him. It was the way she presented herself that threw him off. The majority of the acolytes who’d ventured into the Tomb of Ajunta Pall were as subtle as a brick. Smashing and stabbing their way through their trials, they had nary a hint of a cunning streak in their entire bodies. Yet she was nothing of the sort. Which made it made it all the more unsettling when she effortlessly butchered the hapless acolytes he set upon her.  

The present suddenly came roaring back into focus for him, in the form of a particularly shrill scream. His gaze darted back to the fight before him, scanning for who had made such a sound. It didn’t take long to figure out.

* * *

_Damn._

Vaessa clutched at her arm, her eyes widened as they rapidly looked from acolyte to acolyte. Only three remained now, but that last one refused to go down without getting a slash in. His blade definitely connected sharply enough. Her mind was frantic now and she slashed wildly out at the remaining three in order to create some space between them.

_Of course he got my sword arm, wouldn’t be enough to just slash me, would it? Nope had to take out my ability to swing this blasted thing around._

One of the acolytes made a move for her, he leapt towards her, his robes fluttering around him, his blade raised over his head. Dulled eyes, sunken into a hollowed skull, met hers as she fumbled to move her blade to meet his. The only response she received from her arm was a sharp jolt of pain that ran up into her shoulder. No time to think, she raised her remaining arm and outstretched her hand.

The lightning flowed through her body, like a river in a storm, it surged from within, racing to the tips of her fingers before discharging into the open air. The air itself seemed to catch on fire, crackling sporadically around her. Bolts of electricity extended from her hand as if her fingers themselves were outstretching across the room. They extended rapidly, crisscrossing erratically towards the helpless body of the airborne acolyte.

He, to his credit, had just enough time to register what was happening for his eyes to bulge in terror. The whites ran red as the veins seemed to mimic the lightning bolts. The acolyte let out a frantic gasp, and then they connected. The lightning exploded around his body, rippling through him from head to toe. A brilliant blast of light blinded the rest of the room. For a moment, time seemed to grind to a halt as his body hung in the air, convulsing from the blast.  

Then the moment ended. The force of the bolt seemed to finally register with the rest of him, and his body was flung across the room. It crashed into the carved stone wall, before landing in a heap on the ground. He writhed for several seconds, then became very still.

The same couldn’t be said for Vaessa herself, however. Her limbs shook and her jaw clattered. A cold chill settled over her as the heat generated by the blast began to dissipate. Her gaze lingered on the man’s still body, before slowly shifting to look down at her trembling hand. Clenching it into a fist was all she could do to stop it.

_I killed him. He wanted me dead, and my power saved me._

Vaessa inhaled, and tightly clenched her eyes. When she opened them, she watched as the remaining two acolytes lowered their blades to the ground.

* * *

Spindrall couldn’t quite fathom what he’d witnessed. The girl seemed all but finished one moment, and the next, his acolyte was smoldering on the floor on the other side of the room. The last two acolytes had simply surrendered to her, yet she did not move to strike the cowards down. A mistake he would not allow.

“Finish them.” His voice must have caught her off guard, as her head spun around to face him, and the wide-eyed look of confusion confirmed what he’d thought. _She has no grasp of the power she wields._

“My Lord, I’ve survived your trial of blood. There’s no need to kill them, is there?”

He chuckled softly. “Yes you’re quite right, you did survive—” he saw her let out a small sigh of relief, “—except it is still a trial of _blood._ And these two spineless wretches have yet to spill any. So if you want to pass this trial, you will kill them, or I will strike you down and deliver your corpse to your Overseer myself.”

The color drained from her face. The battle had exacted a toll on her body she was clearly unaccustomed to, even as a former slave. Sweat slid down over her round, flushed cheeks before dripping from her chin to the ground. She turned once more to face the two acolytes, both completely frozen with fear. Spindrall leaned forward, eagerly awaiting her decision. Slowly, she raised her injured arm, still clutching the training saber, and moved it across her body until she was able to pass the blade to her usable hand. He could tell she was straining, the pain clearly unbearable, if the hissing sound of her sucking air in through her teeth was anything to go by. Both acolytes were looking to him to stop her, as if he had any intention of doing so.

Presumably realizing the futility of such a plea, one quickly looked to the ground and made a desperate grab for his blade. He nearly had it, but by then hers was already slashing through the air.

* * *

"Excellent,” he said, admiring her handiwork crumpled on the floor behind her, “These former acolytes wanted nothing more than to earn their second chance for glory by killing you and taking your place.”

Vaessa squirmed in place, breaking eye contact and staring down at the ground. Her hand moved to rub her battered arm. She’d kill these men — these fellow acolytes – simply because she’d been told to. _Well it was self-defense_ , she told herself, but the words rang hollow in her head. Those last two were defenseless, hell, they’d _surrendered_ to her. Yet she struck them down simply because this crazy old hermit told her to. She wondered what that said about her, but had no time to think about it as Spindrall was still speaking.

“…Well done, but you are not Sith yet.” He clasped his hands behind his back as he began to pace back and forth, never taking his eyes off of her. “Peace is a lie, there is only passion.”

Perhaps it was the pain in her arm dulling her senses, but the tomb itself seemed to spin before her.

“Through passion, I gain strength.”

Her head felt like a weight, dragging her to the ground. It throbbed worse as her balance faltered.

“Through strength, power. Through power, victory.” He paused, coming to a stop directly in front of her.

Each word reverberated in her mind, Passion. Strength. Power. Victory. They seemed to grow louder with each passing second. She bit her lip as another jolt of pain shot through her arm.

“Through victory, my chains are broken.”

The cacophony of words silenced. A familiar feeling began to wash over her, the feeling of that river again. She recognized it this time, the force. Vaessa inhaled deeply, and closed her eyes.


	4. Pass or Fail

**A/N:** Sections written entirely in _italics_ are flashbacks, for the record. Like the one right below this.

As always, any comments/critiques are welcome :)

* * *

_"You’re a lot tougher than you think you are, Vay.”_

_He brought his hand to her face, cradling her chin in his palm. His swirling blue eyes, so much like her own, gazed back at her. Sniffling, she raised her head and looked into them. They were so gentle, she thought. In fact, she couldn’t recall a time she’d ever seen them in anger. He squinted slightly as he gave her an assuring smile, and wiped away a lone tear that had fallen down her cheek._

_"But I can’t do it!” Vaessa’s mouth quivered as she spoke, and she could feel more tears welling up. “Please Kade, please don’t leave.”_

_“You know I don’t want to. It’s just the order…” he turned his head away and frowned. “I’ll write as soon as I’m able.”_

_He started to rise from his kneeling position, but she didn’t let him. Wrapping him in as tight of a hug as her tiny arms could, she pressed herself tightly against him and nuzzled her head into the curve of his neck. His chest expanded against her, then contracted as he let out a sigh. As she felt his arms wrap around her, she stopped holding back her tears. She sobbed into him. Her breaths grew short and uneven. But he held her, whispering hush in her ear. They stayed there for what felt like forever._

_Except it wasn’t forever, and a voice soon rang out from the other room, calling for him. He let out a sigh and started to rise, but Vaessa tried her best to hold onto him._

_He placed a hand on each of her shoulders. “I’ll find you again Little Star, I promise.”_

_She wiped a tear from her face and stood there, watching her brother walk out of the room. When she heard the front door slide close a few seconds later, she felt the tears return._

* * *

Her hand raced to shield her eyes as she finally reached the top of the staircase leading out of the darkened tomb. It must have been only a couple hours past midday, and the sun’s light was merciless, beaming directly down at her. Her face scrunched up as she made her way forward, her eyes slowly adjusting to the daylight. As she went, the wind swept up a thick layer of dirt, which billowed sharply from her right. She choked on the air, coughing out the red dust.

The wind died down as quickly as it had whipped up, and she regained her composure. Then she caught sight of it. The massive steel structure seemed to rise from the stone itself, like a mountain in its own right. It towered upwards, a monument rising out of the canyon. She had to crane her neck just to see the top. At its base, a ramp as wide as it was long ran up the center to a coolly lit interior that she could just make out from this distance.

What really stood out, however, were the slaves. Or, more specifically, the two massive stone statues, one on either side of the pyramid. Each in a kneeling position, their hands behind them as they held the whole structure up.

 _Of course, how poetic._ Vaessa let out a sigh. _Two poor souls whose chains will never be broken._ As she looked down from the slaves, she caught site of something that caused her heart to skip a beat. Quickly, she started to trudge forward, keeping her good hand in front of her face to shield from the whipping sands.

“Do you require medical attention?” The droid stood there, fumbling around with the holopad on its arm. After a few seconds, it turned its expressionless face towards her.

She was panting, standing there with her arm limp at her side and blood and sweat coating her face. For a moment, she couldn’t even respond to the droids inane question. For a droid with no face, it had an incredible ability to look completely confused.

Feigning a smile, she said, “Yes, please, my arm is, uh—” She gestured to down, her arm hanging at her side, “—yeah…”

“Oh my, allow me to fetch a medpac right away!”

Vaessa watched as the droid scampered off to a small station a few feet away. It appeared stocked with all sorts of rudimentary supplies. As he returned, she let out a heavy sigh. As the droid set to work on her arm, she closed her eyes and relaxed.

* * *

She was almost too lost in thought to notice them. Moments after walking through the entranceway to the Academy, she was stopped by some Overseer who directed her to meet one Lord Samus for training.

“Are you deaf and dumb?” He’d said. “Get going!” She’d apologized profusely and sped off around the corner. It seemed like dozens of thoughts were swirling her mind, though that might have just been the effects of the medpac. Or the dulled pain she was still feeling. Or she was just cracking under the stress, who was to say? Spindrall had told her to head straight to Harkun, and now she had to report to this other lord. The blue, steel walls rushed by her as she hurried through a small hallway that lead further into the Academy.

From the corner of her eye, however, she noticed their bright, crimson robes. There were two of them, one on each side of the hall. Each stood rigidly at attention, hands at their sides and heels together. Their armor and robes marked them as important. Definitely some type of high imperial guard, though she didn’t know for sure. She nearly stopped to examine them closer, when they started to move. In unison, both guards had lowered to one knee and bowed their heads. A shiver ran up her spine. They had kneeled.

Before _her._ And she liked it.

Quickly, however, she sped off into the main hall. After a moment of searching, she headed down another lengthy corridor before locating Harkun’s chambers. It didn’t take long to realize she was late – again. All of the other acolytes were circled around a wide, metallic desk in the center of the room. As she scanned the place, she noted a small section of wall that seemed dented.

Kory was off to one side, standing near the front of the group. Vaessa threw a smile her way as she strolled into the center of the room, but the young girl must have been preoccupied with something else, as she didn’t appear to notice. The Sith was also present, and his beady eyes seemed to have a nasty predilection for following her wherever she went.

Harkun gestured with both hands towards Vaessa. “Ah, the last one.” His voice hung on each word he spoke. “Always the latecomer.”

Vaessa approached him and, lowering her head, handed him the writ that Spindrall had given to her.

He snatched it from her hands, and began to examine the small tablet. “Now we can see what the hermit thinks of you, slime.”

She backed away to join the other acolytes. A glance towards Kory showed the girl was still deep in thought. _Whatever her trial was must have traumatized her._

After a few moments, the Overseer finished examining all of the writs, and turned to face them. Vaessa gulped as his eyes locked onto hers for a second, narrowing as they did so. Then he turned his gaze further.

“Acolyte Kory,” he said. “Step forward, please.”

Vaessa’s eyes widened and she looked quickly over to Kory. The girl jolted at the call of her name, snapping out of her daze. She looked up at the Harkun with those round, tired eyes.

“Y-yes, Overseer?” She stammered.

“You are a weak, pathetic rodent and even a lunatic like Spindrall can see this.” He practically spit the words out at her, his face scrunching up in disgust.

Kory looked about ready to cry. “I’m s-sorry, my Lord. I tried b—” She recoiled as the first bolt of electricity struck her. Her body writhed, and she let out a piercing scream.

Vaessa tried reaching for her, but the Sith grabbed her arm, holding her in place. Her eyes awash in terror, she spun around to look at the young man. His mouth was curled into a twisted smile. Shaking her arm loose, she turned back to her friend only to see the girl collapse to the floor, smoke rising from her body. Fists clenched, she turned back to the Sith. She’d have loved to just beat that grin off his smug face.

Harkun spoke first, however. “Before you get any ideas, meet our newcomer, Ffon Althe.” The robed man placed a hand on his hip and continued staring at Vaessa. Harkun continued, “This is real Sith strength, and he will tear you apart and crush your bones, slaves.”

He went on about how amazing Ffon was, but Vaessa had tuned him out. Instead she was focused on the body of the young girl sprawled out on the floor beside her. Despite trying to think of something else, anything else, Kory’s face continued flashing in her mind.

 _It’s not like I knew her! We’d only just met._ She thought back to the shuttle ride here, to the stories each shared of life in servitude. Of their families. She looked back up. Harkun was addressing the other acolytes on their next trials. Ffon was still as smug-looking as ever. It wasn’t fair. She knew that was a childish outlook, but it was true. _Damn Harkun. Damn them both, it wasn’t fair!_

 _"He can’t kill all of us.”_ The last thing Kory had said to her. Her brow furrowed and she stared at the Overseer.

 _Don’t worry_ , she thought _, he won’t._


	5. Seeing Double

Zyn squinted down at the pretty-looking acolyte before him. “Didn’t I just see you in the jails with Knash? Couldn’t have been more than a couple hours ago.”

A look of confusion spread over her face. “Pardon, my Lord? I’m afraid I don’t know who that is.”

He scoffed. “Nonsense! I could never forget a face as pretty as yours. And such a knack for torture, too. Heard that little blue alien’s screams from here!”

She was looking at him like he was crazy. “I’m sorry, I think you have me confused for someone else. I’m Vaessa, Overseer Harkun sent me.”

What was she playing at? He knew what he’d seen. There was no mistaking a face like that. Or a body, for that matter. He scanned the length of her, paying particular focus to her chest. The tunic she wore wasn’t exactly skin-tight, but it painted a pretty-enough picture. When he looked back up, however, she looked less than pleased.

He gave her as friendly a smile as he could. “Yes well, my apologies then. So you’re the acolyte Harkun sent, hmm? He’s given me very specific instructions. You were raised as a slave but must discard those traits and learn to control others. And I have just the task for that end.”

Perhaps she really wasn’t the same girl he’d seen earlier. Just the mention of ‘controlling others’ had her shifting uncomfortably in place.

He gestured to the right side of the room, where the table with her task lay. “Meet this driveling excuse for an acolyte. He will be your victim.” As soon as she saw the boy, the color flushed from her face.

“What _exactly_ does this entail?

“A short while ago, there was what we call…” he paused as he considered how to phrase this. “…an ‘ _unauthorized murder_ ’ here in the academy. A rival among apprentices resulted in death.”

She looked back over at the wretched lad. Surely she wasn’t seriously sympathizing with him, was she? _This is what happens when slaves are permitted to become Sith._

“Interrogate him!” He ordered. “Make him tell you who committed this crime, at any cost.”

Closing his eyes, he pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Already you are a disappointment to me, girl.” He shrugged. “But Harkun said nothing of torture being a requirement, so I will not restrict you.”

So much for his entertainment. He turned from her and walked over to the monitors on the other side of the room. Paperwork would be more enlightening than this. From over his shoulder he listened in on her progress. The boy, Alif, was pleading for his life. The perfect opportunity for a bit of torture! And she responded by promising _not_ to harm him. _Wonderful._

Alif was too stubborn to accept the good fortune he had, though. He refused to talk, even as she spouted off drivel about ‘justice’ and ‘doing the right thing.’ Zyn wanted to vomit.

“…justice? There is no justice in the Sith.” The boy’s voice shook as he spoke. “There’s just power.”

There was a pause before the girl answered. “That doesn’t have to be true. There’s strength too, and freedom. You have the freedom to choose.”

What was she getting at? Keeping his back to them, Zyn slowly turned his head. He had taken his attention completely off his work at this point. Reaching out with the force, he attempted to get a read on her. _Interesting._ There was conflict within her. A clash of light vs dark, a swirling torrent of energy.

She continued talking now. “Look, if you don’t talk to me, the inquisitor will bring someone else in, and they won’t be as understanding as me. I want to help you.”

Zyn couldn’t help but laugh, though he did his best to be quiet about it.

“Why?” asked Alif. “Why don’t you just torture me and get it over with?”

She hesitated. “Because. Because I believe there are better methods than torture.”

“They really did pull you out of the slave pens like the inquisitor said, didn’t they? Alright, I’ll tell you what I saw.”

Even without seeing her face, Zyn could sense her smile grow wide. _Most interesting indeed._

* * *

“Trials of Intellect”. That’s what Harkun had called it. He’d just finished accusing her of cheating on that interrogation – despite Inquisitor Zyn’s surprisingly positive report – when he decided to assign a new trial. Something about testing their understanding of the force, whatever that meant, and yet there she was, telling him that she could handle anything Ffon could handle.

 _Yep, that’s me, Vaessa Rane. Master of the force._ She sighed and continued her trek towards the tomb. The dirt path of the wilds was treacherously uneven. Each step she took seemed to fall a different height than the last, and more than once she nearly stumbled as a patch of dirt gave way to a small crevice or hole that ran deep into the ground.

_And where is Harkun’s favorite pet? Why, translating texts in the library, of course!_

After several minutes of walking, she passed beneath a large metal walkway far above her ahead. As she gazed up, she stared in awe at the twin statues that stood on the cliffs above. Massive stone behemoths loomed over the valley, their heads bowed in an eternal display of respect to their master. Which meant…

 _There._ Just up ahead, beyond the twin servants, was a cliff with three stone epitaphs rising up its wall. Inscribed in massive lettering was some form of ancient text, though she had no idea what each said, save for one name – Marka Ragnos.

She approached the entrance and peeked in. It was dimly lit, but she could hear noises coming from within. Carefully, she slipped into the shadows and made her way inside. The noises grew louder as she progressed, until soon it became clear what they were. Growls. How had Harkun described this place again? Monster-infested? She paused for a moment and sighed, then pressed forward.

Before long she caught sight of the monument the Overseer had described. The structure reached up towards the ceiling. At the top she spotted it, a small pyramid-shaped piece that stood out from the stone base beneath it. Intricate carvings adorned its sides, while an ominous red glow emanated from within.

Carefully, she climbed the ramp walkway that spiraled up to the top of the monument. The ramp must have been a leftover from some previous expedition to uncover the monument’s artifact, as it was obviously not an original part of the tomb. Halfway up, the ramp became to wobble under the stress, and she grabbed the railing for balance.

_How comforting, if the monsters don’t kill me, the stairs will._

At the top, she set to work figuring out the monument. She tried to decipher the runes inscribed on the bottom of the pyramid, but as with the epitaphs outside, they were in some ancient script.

She considered what Harkun had said. _Perhaps by ‘understanding of the force’, he was referring to the Sith code?_ Immediately, her mind returned to her first day on Korriban, deep within the Tomb of Ajunta Pall. Spindrall’s teachings flooded her memories.

Focusing her energy towards the stone monument, she recited the code. At first, nothing happened. She was about ready to try something else when the tomb began to rumble. She reached out to steady herself when she heard a familiar noise – a growl. And it was right behind her.

Without thinking, she dropped to the ground. As she fell, she could feel the air above her rush by. A winged creature soared overhead. _A shyrack._ It wasn’t alone, either. From below, the heavy stomping of feet rattled the walkway. Vaessa attempted to stand again, but the structure shook, and she fell back to her hands. When she lifted her head, she was face to jaw with two beasts.

The tuk’ata roared, their horns glowing red in the light of the pyramid. Vaessa muttered a curse and reached for her saber. The training blade whirred to life, its yellow glow illuminating the teeth of the brutes. For a second, she made the mistake of inhaling through her nose. She gagged on the putrid stench of their breath.

The first of the tuk’ata lowered its head to charge, but Vaessa was already moving. She pushed off the ground and rolled to its side. Its horn pierced the sleeve of her tunic, tearing a chunk of the cloth off as it charged by. Meanwhile, the other tuk’ata started its own charge. Vaessa raised her blade and sliced, sidestepping as she did so. The creature let out a heavy whine, and collapsed to the ground. Wasting no time, she made short work of the first one, too.

All that left was the shyrack. Looking up, she spotted it circling high above her head. Its beak opened wide and it let out a high-pitched shriek as it dropped from the air towards her, its talons extended in front of it. Vaessa stood her ground, however, and raised her saber. Waiting until just as it was under a meter away, she swiped downwards, striking it directly. The bat-like beast collapsed to the ground in a heap.

Hands on her knees, she stood there catching her breath. “Like to see Ffon come down here and fight some of these things.”

After a few moments, she looked back at the monument. It remained unopened. _Nothing. Right then._ She considered her options. _Well how would a crazy Sith Lord lock up his precious artifacts?_

She thought for a moment, then sighed. “Perhaps a little blood will make you happy.” She raised her hand up to the monument, and carefully drew her blade across her open palm. Droplets of blood fell from the wound, splattering along the base of the pyramid. Again, nothing happened. Then, again, a deep rumbling shook the tomb.

In the distance, she could hear the approaching sounds of tuk’ata feet stomping against the stone floor. She looked back at the monument. There wasn’t any time, and she didn’t exactly feel like fighting even more of those things. With all the strength she could muster, she swung her blade against the pyramid. The durasteel weapon collided with the stone, but was quickly rebuffed, bouncing off. The thumps of feet were getting closer. Clanging metal told her the first of them was on the ramp.

Suddenly, there came a heavy crash from below her. The whole structure began to tilt beneath her. One of the tuk’ata had rammed into a support beam in its attempts to climb up.

With the walkway on the verge of collapse, she turned back to the monument. Only one shot left. Returning her blade to its sheath on her back, she ran for the pyramid and reached out one hand.

“Just open, damn it!” Lightning shot from her fingers and struck the monument. Instantly, the sides of the pyramid began lowering into the stone base. There, lying within, was the glowing holocron.

 _No time to wait around._ She broke out in a run towards the monument. Another support pillar could be heard crashing to the ground. The stress was officially too much for the walkway. Vaessa shouted, and with everything she had, jumped from the edge. The structure gave way behind her, metal crashing into metal as the ramps slid in a mess of different directions. She reached for the artifact and with one hand, pulled it from its perch.

Unfortunately, she was still falling. The ground rushed up to meet her, and her eyes widened. She pulled her knees in and leaned forward, her feet slamming into the ground. Quickly, she tumbled forwards, rolling several feet. Behind her, the cacophony of sound came to a halt as the walkway came to rest in a heap of railings and rods. Buried somewhere underneath, the tuk’ata let out a roar.

Within seconds, Vaessa climbed to her feet, wobbly, but otherwise unharmed. She coughed as she breathed in the dust swirling in the air. Before anymore creatures could show up, she tucked the artifact into her pack and started making her way out of the tomb.

* * *

After a few minutes, the first rays of sunshine hit her face. She smiled to herself, and stepped out into the daylight. Stopping for minute to sit on a rock nearby, she pulled the artifact from her pack. Its glow was harder to make out in the direct sunlight, but she marveled at the intricate detail of the carvings along each side.

“For once, I can’t wait to see the look on Harkun’s face!” She laughed to herself, and reached to put the artifact away again. Then a voice rang out.

“I can imagine, that’s an awfully pretty looking cube you have there. And to think, all I got to do was kill some giant beast. Bet Tremel won’t be as excited as this Harkun will be.”

Vaessa spun her head around towards the entrance to the tomb. Immediately, her mouth dropped open. There stood a woman. Her long black hair flowed down her back in small, bouncing curls, and she stood with a hand on her hip. She looked quite amused with herself, a large grin plastered over her face. A face that looked exactly like Vaessa’s. 


	6. Facing Truths

**A/N:** Sorry for the delay between chapters! The last week was full of midterms and essays and so I had little time to write. I'm on spring break now, but I flew down to visit family, so I've still been rather busy.

Anyway, ended up rewriting this chapter several times. Sort of a slower chapter, but I plan to have the next one out much faster. Also a big thanks for the comments and support!

* * *

_"Momma! Momma look!" Her little legs clambered down the steps as fast as they could. The staircase seemed so impossibly long, but of course, everything appears larger than life to a child. Reaching the end finally, she waved her arms wildly and turned the corner to her mother's room. She very nearly slid into a wall as she did so, her lashaa silk socks gliding over the smooth tile flooring._

_Her mother sat on her bed, her legs hung over the side. She looked up from the holopad in her hands with a bemused look on her face as Vaessa rushed through the door, very nearly out of breath._

" _My, you're in a hurry."_

_Vaessa beamed up at her mother, and she held up the holomessage in her hands._

_"It's him, it's him!" She bounced up and down until her mother put a hand up._

_"Calm down, dear. Who is 'him'?"_

_"I haven't watched it yet but it's from Kade, momma! He messaged me, just like he said he would!"_

_Her mother's eyes grew wide. "Kade? I was told he wouldn't…" Her voice trailed for a few seconds. "It doesn't matter. Come, let's see what he's been up to, hmm?"_

_Vaessa eagerly handed over the device and hopped up onto the bed as her mother started up the message. Slowly, an image started to flicker to life._

_Almost immediately, the pleasant smile disappeared from her mother's face._

* * *

They'd been staring in silence for the last few minutes, each studying the other's face, poring over every identical detail. Vaessa looked from her eyes to her nose to her lips. The only thing different was the brand she had on her own face.

It was the girl who spoke first. "Okay, so this is weird, right?" She slowly began walking forwards, but stopped when Vaessa recoiled, taking a step back.

"Who are you?"

"Right, right, manners. You can't imagine how much my mother would scold me for forgetting." Clearing her throat, she bowed her head down, her hands rolling out to her sides in an over exaggerated fashion. "Zoenna, of House Valdaire, of Alderaan."

Vaessa eyed her warily. A noble? _Come to think of it, that hair should have given it away._ And from Alderaan, too. She'd served nobles before, but not there. All she knew of the planet were stories; things her father had mentioned to her as a child, things other slaves had said in her time on Serenno. Still, probably one of the better positions she'd had, though that wasn't saying much.

"You know, I've been away from home for a while now, so maybe I'm mistaken, but I believe it's customary to actually _respond_ when talking to someone."

_Crap_. She snapped out of her memories and looked up at the girl, Zoenna, and hastily introduced herself. "Vaessa. Rane, that is, of House, um..."

"That mark on your face. It's a brand, isn't it, Vaessa? You were a slave."

Vaessa felt her face flush and looked down, raising a hand to obscure her cheek.

"You must be one of those slaves Lord Zash had flown in, aren't you? Quite the scandal, that was. Tremel was fuming." Zoenna paused, furrowing her brow and deepening her voice as she imitated a man Vaessa assumed must be Tremel. "That woman is destroying the purity of the Sith! This is why you must destroy Vemrin, Zoenna, blah, blah, Baras, blah…"

As she spoke, Vaessa couldn't help but chuckle. "So you don't mind slaves training here?"

"Regardless of my feelings on slavery, and I certainly don't care for it much, you are here on Korriban. You walk where the legends of the Sith once walked. Naga Sadow, Tulak Hord—" she paused to gesture to the tomb behind them, "—Marka Ragnos. If you are here, you are Sith. Anyone says otherwise, slay them where they stand."

Above them, the towering servants of Marka Ragnos loomed, silently observing. Vaessa turned her head up to look at them now. The wind beat upon their stone bodies, but still they stood there, well over a millennia since their master had lived.

With a heavy sigh, she said, "I am no Sith." Throwing her pack over her shoulder, she turned and walked from the tomb. The gravel crunched behind her as Zoenna ran to catch up.

* * *

"Travel route confirmed." The skyhopper droid finished punching in the coordinates on the screen in front of him before turning back to the taxi. Immediately, the speeder lifted off the landing pad and took off through the air, the chipper little droid waving after it as it did so.

Vaessa settled into the leather seat as best as she could, but it was difficult to get too comfortable. She examined the wheel in front of her. Why would an auto-piloted taxi need a steering wheel? _Too bad_ , she thought. It'd been years since she'd flown in anything other than a shuttle, and all of those had just been taking her from one owner to another.

Wind rushed over the windshield as the taxi started its journey towards the Academy, and the air blew Zoenna's hair behind her in a swirl of dark curls. She sat with her chin resting in the palm of her hand, and her legs stretched out as far under the dashboard as possible, her feet crossing at the ankles. Her brow arched downwards into her piercing eyes, which intently gazed outwards. Vaessa noted that she seemed so far away, lost in thought somewhere in the red wilds rushing by beneath them.

The speeder tilted upwards as it glided over the crest of the mountain that separated the wilds below from the Valley of the Dark Lords. As the Academy came into view, Vaessa found herself staring at the twin statues outside its entrance – the eternal slaves.

Suddenly, Zoenna spun around in her seat. "You said you're no Sith."

Vaessa sighed. "I did."

"So you think you're still a slave, then?"

"No, I—"

"Either way you're a fool." Zoenna looked away, turning her attention to the landing pad up ahead. The speeder began its descent, slowing to a halt as it landed softly on the ground. When it did, wind kicked up around it, blowing dirt outwards in all directions.

The skyhopper droid buzzed and tried to greet Zoenna as she leapt over the side of the car. She, however, completely ignored him and dusted off her sleeve quickly before briskly walking towards Vaessa, who was still pushing the door open on her side.

"You _will_ die here, you know." Zoenna stared down at her, folding her arms over her chest. "Refuse to embrace the Sith code, and you won't last another week."

Vaessa stood up from the taxi, rising to face her eye to eye. "Is that a threat?"

"It's no threat, it's a fact." She raised both of her hands up and backed off. "Besides, I'd prefer you didn't die."

"What's it matter to you?"

Zoenna scoffed, "Really?" She pointed to her face. "It'll be very difficult to figure this out if you're dead."

"Well good then," Vaessa started towards the ramp that led back into the academy, "because I don't plan on dying."

Her feet moved swiftly, carrying her up into the Academy and back towards Harkun. As she walked, she listened for the sound of footsteps rushing to catch up to her, but this time, there was silence.

* * *

_It felt surreal, watching his face flicker into view in front of her. It was somehow simultaneously familiar and new. He'd always looked so much older than her, even if it was only a few years age difference, but she knew that despite that, he'd barely been more than a boy when he left. Now he was nearly a man._

_Gone were the tender features of before. Gone were the soft cheeks, the rounded chin and the large, inquisitive eyes. His face was longer now, sharper. The contour could be marked in firm lines that drew down into a squared-off chin. His eyes, however, still radiated a gentleness that time could not erase, even with the serious expression that he wore. He was still her brother, she knew that, yet at the same time she knew the boy in front of her was someone she'd never met._

_Vaessa sat next to her mother, her tiny legs swinging back and forth as they dangled over the side of the bed. She inched as close as she could to her mother's side, and watched with barely contained excitement as the holomessage began._

_Kadeyrn stood before them, but she noticed immediately that something seemed off. He wasn't smiling, and every few seconds he seemed to be glancing over his shoulder._

_When he spoke, his voice was often overcome by static. "…sorry it took so long to… last few years have been incredi… know that I love you all…"_

_She looked up at her mother, but her face was difficult to read. Tears were welling up in her eyes, but she seemed more worried than happy. Seeing that was enough to make her start to worry herself. What was her mother so afraid of?_

_A booming noise echoed somewhere in the distance behind her brother, and he spun his head sharply around. When he turned back, he was visibly shaking._

"… _don't have much time. They're here, mother. The Empire is here on Coruscant…"_

_Vaessa let out a gasp, and her mother raised a hand to cover her mouth. A tear rolled down her face and fell into her lap. Her head was a swirl of thoughts. She couldn't even hear him clearly. Her eyes clenched shut and she buried her face in her hands._

"… _in the temple… don't want you to worry, I'll be fine…"_

_Another blast could be heard in the background, and the image flickered in and out._

"… _need you to know… home isn't safe… overheard reports… will reach you soon… get out now."_


	7. And Then There Were Two

Quorian Dorjis tried desperately to grab onto something, anything. The energy field that made up his cage rebuffed his hands, though, and he had to grip his thighs to remain calm. His eyes felt like they were tied to bricks that were pulling them down. God, if he could just let them close and drift off… The room spun around him as he struggled with everything he had to stay conscious. Unfortunately, Jedi training or not, there was only so much one could do when drugged to the extent he had been.

He just needed to hold on a little while longer. She should be back soon. She said she'd help him. But she was Sith. Why would she help him? It was so hard to remember, to even think. _Why would_ _…_ he couldn't finish the thought, though. With a thump, his head hit the ground of the cell and he drifted off.

It seemed like he'd only been out for seconds before the sound of approaching footsteps jolted him awake. Had it been that fast, or had he been out for hours? There weren't any windows for him to look out of, so he had no way of knowing what time it was. The room had stopped spinning, at least.

Suddenly she was there, before him. Or had she been there the whole time? He could only look up at her, at the black hair that curved down along the side of her face. She looked so small and fragile to him. Not like that Inquisitor, the one who came so often to see him. That woman was twisted into sharp edges that ground against his senses.

"I know you," he said, the weakness of his voice surprising himself. "We talked before. My head's clearer now, Sith."

She didn't say anything, just reached into the pack in her hands and pulled out a few objects. As she laid the items out before him, he almost couldn't believe it.

"It's all here – the comlink, my lightsaber – everything I hid. You're going through with it."

"I told you, no one deserves to suffer like this."

He shook his head. This was more than he could have imagined. "With all this… once the guards change shifts, I think I can slip out of the Academy."

He eyed the hall behind her. From just around the corner, he could make out the form of a guard, shuffling in place. He looked back at her though, and stared into her eyes. Could he leave her here? Surely such kindness would make her a target on Korriban.

"What about you?" he asked. "Will you be okay?" He could tell the question surprised her.

"Me? I'll be fine." She hesitated, though. "I'm more worried about you."

Despite her assurance, he could sense she wasn't exactly sure of it. He'd never understand the Sith, that was for sure. How could anyone be part of a society where your own allies were likely to betray you? Still, any compassion he could find on this rock, he'd take.

"That's… very kind of you, Sith. I still don't understand why you're doing this, but thank you."

"Quorian, you have to know…" she turned her head back. The guard was still there, just past the door. Leaning in close, she spoke in a whisper. "It's a trap."

"What?"

"Your memories were altered. When you report back to the Jedi, you'll tell them exactly what the Sith want you to."

_Damn!_ How could he not have foreseen this? Wait — the drugs. He knew he was on Korriban. He knew he was here, in the belly of the beast, and yet somehow he'd failed to even consider that her helping him was a set-up. The drugs must have affected him worse than he'd thought.

He paced around the small cage. "That explains why you would help me out, but not why you would tell me the truth."

"Perhaps the truth is more complex that you think."

"It's certainly worth pondering. I'll speak to my masters of this, but it isn't important now."

She nodded, and turned to leave.

"I'm – I'm sorry the empire took you in, instead of the Jedi." He wanted to reach out to her. If only he could take her with him, back to Tython. Yet he knew that was impossible. It was clear she was risking enough just helping him. "If things had been different…"

When she turned back, her face was solemn. Without another word, she simply walked out through the door, turning around the corner where the guard stood, and disappeared from view.

With a few hours to go before he could escape, Quorian decided to meditate. His thoughts swarmed with the young female Sith. He'd come to Korriban to spy on the Sith, and in that regard he ultimately failed. Yet in failing, he may have learned something even more valuable. If only he'd learned her name.

* * *

Vaessa turned the corner towards Harkun's chambers, her hand already rifling through the pack on her side for the three stone tablets. They'd been surprisingly easy to retrieve, at least compared to that Jedi's belongings and the usual tasks she was sent on. Only a handful of shyracks had stood, or perhaps more accurately flown, between her and the ancient texts. Nothing a few swings of a blade and some lightning couldn't make quick work of.

Of course, Ffon was probably standing there with Harkun laughing with that smug grin on his ugly red mug. Where'd he been? Why, folding Lord Zash's robes perhaps, or feeding Harkun's pet monkey-lizard. Maybe he had some tea with the Dark Council, who knows? She could just hear the Overseer giggling as he came up with some new, deadly task for her.

_"_ _Guess what, slave,_ _"_ he'd say, " _there_ _'_ _s another ancient tomb for you to explore. This one is home to a family of krayt dragons! Try not to scream too much as they crush your skull, slave._ _"_

She rolled her eyes and smiled to herself. _I'_ _m starting to sound like Zoenna._ _Wonderful._ As she turned another corner, her thoughts were interrupted by a woman's voice.

"Yes—yes, remarkable. Magnificent."

She stopped in her tracks and turned to look at the source of the voice. There stood a woman, no taller than herself, with short, cropped blonde hair. Her robes were an elegant blend of reds and blacks, and she wore a warm smile on her face. Yet Vaessa could immediately sense the force swirling powerfully around her.

"You, slave, wait—no, acolyte." The woman reached into a bag that was draped over her shoulder and removed an object Vaessa recognized instantly. "You're the one who brought me this magnificent holocron from the tomb of Marka Ragnos, yes?"

" _Brought me_ _"_ _?_ Vaessa's eyes widened as it dawned on her who she was talking to. Without missing a beat, she dropped to one knee and lowered her head.

"My Lord, I apologize." Her voice quivered as she spoke. "Y-yes, I found the holocron."

To her surprise, Lord Zash remained entirely courteous. "Nonsense, acolyte, you have nothing to be sorry for. On the other hand, I should be thanking you."

Vaessa slowly rose back to her feet as Zash continued.

"One thousand years it sat buried in that tomb, Sith Lords passing it by. And then—" The Sith Lord gestured to her. "—the most unlikely person comes along. Tell me, how did you manage it?"

"Well…" The images of tuk'ata and the collapsed excavation site flashed in her mind. "It was easy, I shot lightning at it, and it opened."

"Such a simple solution." She placed one hand on her hip and the other on her chin. "Why did none of us think of that?"

Vaessa shrugged.

"Regardless, your work so far has me intrigued. I have high hopes for you acolyte—" Placing the holocron back in her bag, she strode past Vaessa, stopping only briefly before turning the corner. "—Sky high."

* * *

Balek watched from his corner as she entered through the doorway. She was gazing around at the various training equipment and devices, presumably looking for any hint of why she'd been sent here. As she did so, her hand moved up to her face and swept a lock of her dark hair back over her ear and out of her eyes. He turned his attention to the other corner of the room. There, crouched in the shadows, his brother waited for his signal.

Without waiting any longer, he nodded towards Wydr and stood up. Wydr followed suit, and together they approached the young acolyte.

Wydr spoke first, puffing out his chest and placing his hands on his sides. "Hello there, Vaessa."

She spun around to face them, and immediately Balek felt his stomach sink. He could tell she tried to hide her surprise, but her eyes betrayed her. There was no chance they could fool her. Even if she didn't want to say it, she clearly knew why they were there.

His brother kept talking. "You remember my brother and me from downstairs, with Harkun, right?"

"Sorry it had to be this way." As he spoke, she turned to look directly at him. He quickly averted his gaze downwards. If she looked at him any longer, he'd probably crack right then. He really was sorry, too, but he doubted she'd find much comfort in that.

"We don't like it any more than you do," Wydr continued. "Well, maybe a little more."

_Damnit Wy, stop making light of this!_ There was no honor in what they were doing, he knew that. He just wanted to get this over with. _God_ , he thought, _how_ _'_ _d it ever come down to this?_ When they'd discovered their force sensitivity, it seemed like such a blessing! They'd become Sith, be free! It had never occurred to them how deadly the trials would be, how much they'd have to give.

"What is this Balek, what's going on here?" She was still trying to feign ignorance.

"I'm sorry girl, I liked you. I really did."

"But Harkun made us a deal, see." His brother seemed way too eager. "We kill you, we go home.

"Come on," she said. "Do we have to do this? We should be sticking together. This is what Harkun and Ffon want."

She was probably right, but that didn't matter.

"We don't want to, but we know we can't beat Ffon. We'll never be Sith." He sighed, rubbing the back of his head. "At least this way, we can go home alive."

"You're wrong!" Her eyes suddenly narrowed in anger. "We don't survive this place by turning on each other. That's what Harkun wants. We survive it together!"

"Quiet." Wydr snarled and drew his blade from over his back. "The time for talk is over, fight for your life, acolyte."

Balek gulped and reached for his blade. His brother looked ablaze in his rage. He wished he could get that angry himself – he'd prefer it to the guilt that was there in its place. As the first clash of durasteel rang out through the room, he knew this had been a mistake.

To his credit, Wydr fought with all he had. His swings were wild but plentiful, and he practically growled as he attempted to slash the poor girl. Balek jumped in where he could, a slash here or a stab there, but it was quickly hopeless. Even if they killed her – and that seemed increasingly doubtful – what kind of life would they really be returning to?

Then a scream pierced his ears. As if in slow motion, he watched as her blade crossed the length of his brother's body. Wydr's eyes went wide as the blow struck, and within seconds he was crumpled to the floor, motionless. Balek couldn't move. One second, his brother was there, full of passion and anger, fighting for all they had left. The next, he was gone; a corpse on the ground.

Immediately, she turned her attention to him, and he hardly raised his saber up to block her. _Don't worry_ _, Wy. I'_ _ll rejoin you soon._ He stared at her as she moved towards him.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. As her blade struck his neck, the last thing he saw was the sorrow in her eyes. Then the world went dark.

* * *

Vaessa panted and placed a hand on the wall next to a training dummy. Beside her lay Balek and Wydr's corpses. She took another look at Balek, his mouth still hanging open slightly. He'd apologized to her before she killed him.

_We could have worked together!_ Why'd they have to do that? She felt the rage boil up in her. It was an unnerving feeling, though it was one she'd been feeling more and more during her time here. This time, it got the best of her.

"Idiots!" She slammed her fist into the head of the dummy next to her. The padded mesh absorbed the blow readily. Her eyes closed for a moment and she took a deep breath, attempting to calm down. Her attempts were interrupted by a familiar voice from outside the room.

"Dummy giving you trouble?"

Vaessa turned her head to find Zoenna leaning against the doorway, arms crossed over her chest and a mischievous smile plastered over her face. The armor she wore was new. It was simple, reminiscent of many of the other acolytes she'd seen around the Academy, but it suited the girl.

"For someone who claims they're not a Sith, you sure are making short work of anyone who gets in your way, Vay." She leaned down and examined Wydr's body, turning his head side to side. "It's okay if I call you Vay, right? Or is that only for family?"

"My brother calls me Vay."

"That a yes?"

Vaessa placed a hand on her hip. "Are you following me?"

Zoenna laughed. "Believe it or not, I do have my own trials to complete here." She stood back up and began circling the room, trailing her fingers along the walls. "So what happened here, a little friendly competition got out of hand?"

"He forced them to." Vaessa clenched her fists.

"Who, Harkun?"

"I tried to reason with them but they refused to listen." Her anger continued to build, causing the air around her to heat up.

"Does that piss you off? Good." Zoenna finished circling the room and came up behind Vaessa, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Let that anger fuel you. Turn it against Harkun and you could destroy him."

"No." Her breathing steadied and slowed down. "I'm not… that's not me. I'm not giving in to the Sith."

The hand dropped from her shoulder as Zoenna groaned loudly. "You're no fun, you know that?"

"I'm not—"

"I sensed your feelings from Baras's chambers down the hall. That's how I knew to come here. Just admit it, Vay, part of you enjoyed killing them."

The image of Wydr's face flashed in her mind. The look of shock on his face as the first swing of her blade cut across his body, and the grimace that replaced it as she had brought her saber back down. A chill ran down her spine as she thought of it again. It wasn't pleasure though. It couldn't have been, right?

"Your silence is more telling than you think." The girl flashed a smile, patting her on the shoulder before moving towards the doorway. "Keep up the good work, _Sith_. See you 'round."

Then Vaessa was alone again. The room felt colder than before, and she shivered as she looked back down at the brothers at her feet. She knelt down next to Balek, sighing as she reached forward and pushed his mouth closed. When he looked at peace, she got to her feet and hurried out the door.


End file.
